


in safe hands

by ohlawsons



Series: cat nua [6]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: F/M, Pillars Prompts Weekly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 22:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12397749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlawsons/pseuds/ohlawsons
Summary: She's saved the Dyrwood and faced off against the gods themselves, but sometimes it's a simple rescue mission that makes Neria feel like she's doing the most good in the world.





	in safe hands

**Author's Note:**

> For @pillarspromptsweekly 0009: to the rescue!
> 
> Work has been absolutely awful lately so i haven't been able to finish a prompt in a while but i have thousands of words worth of wips, so hopefully i can get caught up and post some older prompt responses over the next couple of weeks.

“Here we are -- chowder, a la Mama Eleri.” 

With a grin and a flourish, Neria presented one of the two steaming bowls she held to Eder, holding out the other one to Kana. From beside them, Hiravias held a hand out, giving his fingers an expectant waggle. “You're a big boy,” she insisted lightly. “Get your own.”

“See if I ever help you get revenge on ignorant humans again.” He grumbled, but there wasn't any actual animosity in his words.

“That fucking knife game is the whole reason we're stuck out in this nightmare of a blizzard,” Neria shot back. It had taken all afternoon, but the pair of them had beaten several humans at their knife throwing game, at which point Neria had torn down the poster with the stylized orlan's head and left the gathered crowd with a few choice threats; she had Berath’s markings in place of the telltale ears and fur, but her stature was clearly one of an orlan. 

At least they'd had the decency to act embarrassed about the whole thing.

Neria, already relatively full from the numerous taste tests she'd done while cooking -- something  _ else  _ she'd picked up from her mother -- rested an arm on Eder’s shoulder, leaning against him and taking advantage of the rare experience of being a few inches taller than him. “So, boys, what do you think? The Devil’s no help, but Pallegina’s already given me some very Vailian criticisms.”

Kana paused long enough to give her an enthusiastic thumbs up. Eder set his bowl on the ground in front of him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before answering. “Better than the stuff we had back in Stalwart.” 

“Yeah? I'd say you're biased,” Neria mused, fingers absentmindedly beginning to play with Eder's hair, “but you're also absolutely right.” She grinned down at him, allowing herself to simply enjoy the proximity as Hiravias rejoined them with a bowl of his own and the cave they’d been taking shelter in fell back into relative silence; for several minutes, the occasional crack and pop of the fading fire was the only thing audible over the storm outside, and the low, steady howl of the winds only made it that much more obvious when a child’s scream pierced the air.

Neria froze, her hands stilling in the lazy massage she had been giving to a somewhat drowsy Eder. Hands still resting on his shoulders, she leaned down to ask -- as quietly as she could while making herself heard over the storm -- “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“It sounded--” She was cut off by a second shrill cry; this time, she caught a flicker of movement as Hiravias’ ear twitched, and he turned to glance back at her. “It’s close,” Neria pointed out, already reaching for her war hammer. “We can’t just… ignore it.”

“Of course not.” Kana began to stand, but Neria motioned for him to stay put.

“There’s a fucking  _ blizzard _ out there -- Hiravias and I have the best chance at finding our way back here,” she explained, giving Hiravias a pleading look.

Rolling his eye, the druid set his still mostly full bowl down, pulling himself to his feet with a sigh. “You  _ do  _ realize I’m terrible with children? You’re right that anyone else would likely end up lost and frozen to death out in the storm, though, so I  _ guess  _ I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you.” Hoisting her hammer up and resting it on her shoulder, Neria began to turn towards the entrance of the cave. As she stepped away, she felt Eder reach for one of her hands. 

“I know there’s no use asking -- but stay safe?”

Unable to hold back a little smile, Neria turned back to him and brushed back his hair with her free hand -- she  _ loved  _ being taller than he was -- and promised, “I’ll do my best.” She paused, then amended, “Except I don’t know how to punch a storm into submission, so we’ll see how it goes.”

He grinned up at her. “Well, if anyone can find a way, it’s you. Here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that.”

Neria’s answer was cut off by a long groan from Hiravias. “Are we going to leave? Or should I go back to eating?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Stepping around the fire, Neria joined Hiravias at the cave entrance, elbowing him lightly as they both watched the wind and snow whip through the air before them. “It’s cold as fuck,” she observed, tugging her hood awkwardly up over her head. “Ready?”

His response was to begin trudging through the snow. “You’re lucky that chowder is so fucking good,” he called over his shoulder, the words nearly inaudible over the storm. Neria followed with a grin, staying within a few feet of Hiravias so she didn’t lose sight of him. 

It took nearly fifteen minutes of searching before they found the origin of the cries. Tucked away against the mountainside, well-hidden in the storm and mostly protected from the wind, was a small cave lit up with the soft, warm glow of a fire. Torch in one hand and hammer in the other, Neria motioned for Hiravias to stay at the mouth of the cave while she slowly made her way forwards. She’d only made it a few feet before she caught sight of the inhabitants -- a young elven woman, mousy brown hair gathered into a loose ponytail, and a small, fur-bundled child that she was cradling close to her chest.

As soon as she caught sight of Neria, the elf froze, eyes going wide as she clutched even more tightly to the child. Immediately, Neria dropped her war hammer at her side, holding up her now-empty hand in a gesture that she hoped was non-threatening; ignoring the fact that she was in full chain mail, with an axe at her side and a second, larger hammer at her back, she still had the dark, mask-like growths over her eyes and the halo of shadow surrounding her head -- courtesy of Berath -- which hadn’t ever done her any favors when it came to earning people’s trust.

“It’s alright,” she consoled the other woman, keeping her voice low. “I’m Neria. My friends and I are waiting out the storm near here. We heard crying and just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Eyes still wide, the elf’s gaze darted from Neria, to the hammer on the ground, to the cave entrance, and back to Neria. “My name is Deryn,” she said, voice cautious and almost too quiet to hear, “and this is my son, Emyr. We were on our way to Stalwart when the storm hit.”

“This weather doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up anytime soon,” Neria observed, chancing a look back over her shoulder. “Do you have food?”

“Enough to make it to Stalwart.” Deryn’s tone didn’t change, but her chin jutted forward and her eyes became hard and challenging.

It was enough to draw an appreciative laugh from Neria. “I’m sure you do, but I’m also gonna guess you wouldn’t turn down something warm and hearty. Or a bigger fire,” she offered, “or some real protection against the creatures that roam the wilderness out here.”

Deryn looked as if she were considering disagreeing, but then a quiet whimper came from the bundle of furs she was cradling and her shoulders drooped. “You have somewhere warmer?”

“Big fire, hot soup, dry blankets,” she promised.

“Then I can’t really afford not to join you.”

* * *

 

“Emyr!”

Neria awkwardly tugged the hood of her cloak up onto her head, pulling at the stylized creases that had been stitched into the fabric, creating a passable imitation of pointed dog ears. The toddler took one look at the hood and burst into laughter, squealing and reaching for the fake ears even as Neria scrambled backwards. 

She was saved from an impromptu game of tug-of-war with Emyr -- she really didn’t mind helping to keep him occupied, but  _ why _ in Hylea’s name were children's hands always so damned  _ grubby  _ \-- when Deryn scooped him up in her arms. 

“Time for you to eat, little one. And I think Miss Neria would probably like to get some rest.”

“I don’t mind,” she assured Deryn. “I’m just glad he seems to be feeling better.”

Taking a seat near the fire and pulling Emyr into her lap, Deryn grabbed a half-full bowl and began to slowly help feed Emyr; he reached hungrily for the bowl, and her brow furrowed as she focused her efforts on keeping the chowder from ending up primarily on her son. "We both are,” she said after a moment, glancing up at Neria with a grateful smile; it had taken nearly the entire hour that they’d already been back at the cave, but Deryn was finally beginning to look less nervous.

“Good.” With a comforting smile, Neria retrieved a spare blanket and bedroll and set them beside the elves. “Pallegina’s got first watch, if you need anything. And Hiravias is a pretty light sleeper. Is there anything else I can do before I’m off to bed?”

Deryn was silent for a moment, watching Emyr. “I think we’ll be fine.”

“Well, you know where to find me,” Neria grinned. She planted her hands on her hips, watching the two for a few moments as Deryn continued feeding Emyr. Between everything she’d done tracking down Thaos and their more recent efforts in restoring the White Forge, it had been far too long since she’d done something as simple as help a young mother and her son through a storm. 

She  _ knew  _ that all she and her companions had accomplished was helping the Dyrwood, that they’d done a lot of good for a lot of people, but it wasn’t always the sort of good that was easily distinguishable. It would take years to see the full effects of the end of the Legacy; Neria had always preferred simple jobs with simple payoffs, and there was little more satisfying than watching Deryn hold her son, both of them safe and warm when an hour before they’d been cold and alone. 

With one last  _ goodnight _ , Neria crossed to the other side of the cave and settled onto her bedroll, watching the two elves for a moment before curling up beneath her blanket. 

They would be fine. 


End file.
